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She had absolutely no idea who she was, nor did she remember anything at all, but she she was smart enough to realize that she was in Hell.
Day 5 - Memory loss
Event: Angstpril 2025 by @chaos-company
Fandom: My Hero Academia
Ship: Bakugou Katsuk x Izuku Midoriya
Rating: T
Tags: Old married men in love, 800 words
Age 60
The morning sun creeps through pale curtains, spilling across the floor. Bakugou watches Izuku stir awake in their bed, the frown already tugging at his brows before consciousness even settles.
“Where am I?” Izuku whispers.
Bakugou swallows. “Home. You’re safe.”
A pause, “…Do I know you?”
It’s been twenty nine days since the last spark of recognition. Bakugou forces a breath through his nose and nods, even if it stings. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “I’m your husband, dumbass.”
There’s something flickering in Izuku’s eyes. Guilt? He looks around the room like it’s a museum exhibit. There’s a wall of photos. A desk cluttered with journals. Sticky notes lining the doorway. Bright, hopeful. Desperate. And then there’s the one by his bed, in green ink.
If you don’t remember, ask Katsuki. He’ll help.
Age 24
“You’ve been writing things down more,” Bakugou mutters, plucking the notebook off the nightstand. “You’re twenty-four, nerd. You really need a grocery list just to remember eggs?”
Midoriya blushes, tugging the blanket up to his chin. “My head’s just… busy.”
Bakugou reads the entry.
Lunch with Iida at 1pmText Mom backBakugou likes black coffee now! don’t forget.
“Damn right I do,” Bakugou mutters, tossing the book back into the sheets. He ruffles green curls and grins when Midoriya bats his hand away, flustered and smiling.
Age 51
“Can I go outside?” Izuku asks quietly.
Bakugou lifts his gaze from the journal, heart tight. “Not without me. You got lost last time.”
Izuku’s brows furrow. “I did?”
“Yeah,” Bakugou says, softer. “You did.”
There’s a flicker of frustration, the kind that makes Izuku rub his temple.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
Bakugou reaches for his hand, grounding him. “I’d rather find you a hundred times than lose you once.”
Age 27
The notebook habit only got worse. Or better. Depending who you asked.
Bakugou didn’t complain anymore, not when he found entire pages about him. Scribbled in tiny green ink:
Kacchan always takes his tea at bedtime. Kacchan gets quiet when he’s worried. Don’t push, just sit beside him. Kacchan said he loved me for the first time today. I didn’t say it back fast enough, and I think he thought I didn’t mean it. I’ll write it here 100 times to make up for it: I love him. I love him. I love him…
Bakugou had cried reading that. Privately. In the kitchen. Over fucking soup.
Age 57
Izuku’s handwriting is shaky now.
Bakugou flips through the most recent journal and sees a mess of half-formed sentences. Some pages are drawings.Of their house, their cat, a hero costume from years ago. But some are terrifyingly blank.
He found today’s entry.
There’s a blonde man. He looks sad when I forget him. He says he loves me. I might be crazy…but I think I love him, too.
Age 30
Midoriya stands in their bathroom, holding a toothbrush and frowning at it like it’s a math problem.
Bakugou leans on the doorframe, arms crossed. “You okay?”
Midoriya shakes himself out of it. “Yeah. Just zoned out.”
“You’ve been forgetting little stuff more,” Bakugou says.
Midoriya shrugs. “Stress, maybe. Work’s been…”
“Izuku,” Bakugou says, voice low, “you forgot your mom’s birthday.”
That shuts him up. Midoriya looks at the floor. “I wrote it down,” he says.
“I know,” Bakugou whispers. “But you didn’t check.”
Age 59
The sun rises like it always does. And like always, Izuku blinks awake.
He sees the man beside him, asleep in a chair by the bed, arms crossed, chin dipped down. His hair is a mess. His face is older than the boy in Izuku’s dreams. There’s gray at his temples now.
Izuku frowns. Then offers a wobbly smile, “Katsuki?”
Bakugou jerks awake. For a heartbeat, he doesn’t speak. Just stares. “You remember?” he breathes.
“I… I think so.” Izuku reaches out, fingers trembling. “You’re my husband.”
Bakugou grabs his hand and presses it to his lips, his eyes already wet. “Yeah, nerd. I am.”
Izuku looks at the photos on the wall. The cat curled on the windowsill. The green notebook by his bed. It has his name written over and over on the cover. Izuku Midoriya. You. You. You.
He looks back at Bakugou. “I dreamed about you,” he says softly. “I think I always do.”
Bakugou holds his face like he’s scared he’ll vanish. “Then come back to me,” he whispers.
Tears fall. “I’m trying.”
Age 20
Bakugou finds him asleep at his desk, head on a pile of notes.
He reads the top one.
Kacchan’s birthday: April 20. Don’t forget. You always forget. You don’t want to hurt him again.
Bakugou traces the ink with his thumb.
“Izuku,” he whispers, barely audible. “You never forget the stuff that matters.”
Age 60
The journal on the nightstand is open. There, waiting for tomorrow are the fresh scribbles.
I remembered him. I remembered us. Don’t let it slip away again. Fight for it. Fight for him.
Bakugou adds one line at the bottom in bold, jagged handwriting:
I will always find you, Nerd.
Okay but can we talk about how much amnesia sucks? As a system we don’t have a lot of in the moment Black outs. We have some grey outs and a lot of emotional amnesia, but we don’t fade in and out of consciousness. At least not that we remember.
What we do struggle with is remembering past events. Even as far back as a week or two ago we have black spots that we can’t even remember that we don’t remember. Friends will tell me something happened and I just have to go with it even though I have absolutely no clue what their talking about.
I apparently beat my bf at a board game a few weeks ago and he brought it out again for us to play. I didn’t recognize it all. My first reaction was:
“Oh that looks like a fun game,”
Because I had zero recollection of ever playing it or even seeing it. My bf looked me dead in the face and asked if I was serious because it had only been a few weeks since I destroyed him at it.
There are so many good memories that I’m missing because of my disorder. So many moments that are lost to me and without me even realizing that they aren’t there.
This is one of the darker parts of the disorder that I don’t see talked about a lot. Missing time with loved ones so you don’t remember the trauma.
There are good things that have come from my system and headmates. But let’s not invalidate the pain that comes from not remembering your past.
It’s the middle of the night and shouting can be heard from the king’s chambers.
“Get your wretched hands off of me! I am done enacting your vile fantasies!”
It’s happening again.
“Odysseus, my king, my love, it is I, Penelope.”
But he couldn’t recognize that. Not now anyway.
“You are not! You are not! Cease veiling yourself as my wife you evil witch!”
Despite his wife’s gentle words, he couldn’t see her as he rocked in the fetal position; squinting his eyes shut as if he were a child hiding from an imaginary monster.
“Why must you take joy in tormenting me! I just want to go home! I just want to be home!”
The poor man cried in vain. And all his wife could do was weep. For she could not help her husband escape the prison of his confabulated captor. She could not free him from the prison of his own mind.
(Angst under the cut)
So I was rewatching some clips from Bridgerton (specifically Queen Charlotte) and it made me think about Odysseus and Penelope Growing old. Odysseus’ mind escaping him in his old age. At first it’s just a few moments Penelope notices he’s not entirely there, but as he grows closer to the end, his moments of lucidity are few and far between. He has confabulations of his past, of men in his palace when there are none. Penelope and Telemachus try their best to help him, but rumors quickly spread of the mad king.
One particular instance that seals this suspicion is when Ody mistakes Telemachus for one of Penelope’s old suitors and absolutely flys off the handles. Luckily Telemachus is a strong enough man he can hold his own against his aging father, but it shakes him up. It’s the first time his own father didn’t recognize him.
Though, as his condition progresses, his wife and son learn better how to adjust. For example Pen will sometimes hand Odysseus a baby doll (a trick used on irl dementia patients btw) and tell him to take care of Telemachus for a while, this helps calm the man down temporarily.